Sneak Peak into Faith

Faith, the latest book in the Scandalous Suffragette series is coming out February 9th!

And to help you get as excited as I am, here’s an excerpt from one of my favorite tension-filled scenes.

Let me know what you think!

Faith Warren heard the clink of the jail cell doors and prepared herself for the storm about to erupt. Stepping into the waiting room, her father approached her, his face taut with barely concealed rage. He’d been angry with her before, but she knew there would be consequences for her actions today.

He took her by the arm. “Don’t say a word until we’re in the carriage.”

The door swung open and several reporters from the Boston Evening Traveler greeted them. “Miss Warren do you think your father’s bank treats women unfairly?”

“Miss Warren, why don’t you go to work in your father’s bank?”

“Mr. Warren, what do you think of your daughter’s involvement in the suffragette movement?”

Her father gripped her elbow almost dragging her to the waiting carriage. He didn’t say a word and she knew from his rigid body, he was the angriest she’d ever seen him. When they reached the buggy he opened the door and she crawled in, followed closely by her father.

The driver clicked to the horses and away they went, with the reporters laughing.

She sighed. She knew better than to say anything. Long ago, she’d learned that nothing embarrassing or revealing was discussed when a servant was nearby. She glanced out the window at the passing homes, knowing her activities with the ladies would be curtailed. Eight long months and then she could walk out of her family home and hopefully into the school she hoped to create for young girls.

The carriage turned and came to a halt in the prosperous neighborhood on Beacon Street. She could see reporters milling around the front of the house close to the street. The door opened and her father waited holding out his hand. She had no choice, though she wanted nothing more than to escape to her room and avoid the confrontation she knew awaited her.

The reporters were making a mad dash across the street. “Miss Warren, Miss Warren.”

Taking her elbow her father pulled her towards the steps leading into the house. Reluctantly she followed, feeling like she was walking to the gallows. Their maid opened the door. “Good evening, Mr. Warren, Miss Warren.”

“Good evening, Bertha,” her father said.

Faith nodded, but kept her lips closed, knowing what was expected of her.

Not releasing her elbow, he took her straight into his office and closed the door.

“Sit,” he commanded.

She took a seat in the chair across from him as he went behind his desk. The tick tock of the clock could be heard, but nothing else as they sat staring at one another.

“If your mother were alive, she’d be quite disappointed in you.”

Faith knew better than to argue, and she didn’t believe his statement. Her mother had been the one who encouraged her not to define her life by marriage, but rather to learn and grow. And she had in honor of her mother and then slowly for herself. But she knew better than to argue. It didn’t really matter what she said because her father didn’t listen.

Next weekend they were slated to march against her father’s bank. And she’d known there was no way she could be seen protesting with the women, so she’d gone this weekend. But she wasn’t about to tell her father his bank was on the schedule.

“Attending college was the worst thing I’ve agreed to. Since you graduated, you’ve become involved in this women’s movement. You’ve embarrassed the family, my business, and we have reporters in front of our home. I should have married you off years ago.”

He sighed and gazed at her. “In your own best interests, I’m sending you out of town for a while until this scandal dies down.”

“No,” she cried knowing she wasn’t supposed to speak, but unable to stop the word from coming out of her mouth.

He frowned at her. “Silence.”

She couldn’t be sent away from Boston. She was working with the ladies to find a location for her to start a boarding school to teach young women. They were to look at property next week, and when she received her trust fund in February, she would have the school ready by next fall. There was much to prepare if she wanted to start on time.

“Your aunt told me that Cal Anderson is searching for a teacher for his granddaughter, Lilly Anderson. You know the little girl your cousin had with the rancher from Montana.”

Cousin Beth was the girl who should have been her father’s child. She was the one who enjoyed parties and shopping and dancing the night away. She was the one who flirted with every available man and had gotten caught in more than one compromising position. Until she’d eloped with the rancher from Montana shocking them all. A rancher hadn’t seemed the right fit for her.